Nih
by zealousgirl
Summary: ***complete*** An entity develops an interest in the relationship between the Chief Engineer and the Science Officer
1. Chapter 1

Nih by zealousgirl  
  
Disclaimer: I write purely for the fun of it, as well as out of a sense of duty to at least try to contribute to that which gives me much enjoyment (ie reading fanfiction). Paramount currently owns Enterprise and all its characters.  
  
Summary: Enterprise encounters an entity that becomes interested in the relationship between the human chief engineer and the Vulcan science officer.  
  
Author's Note: This story is designed to stand on its own, and does not follow the timeline of any of my previous fanfictions. I was in a rather goofy mood when the idea for this appeared. It is supposed to be a bit silly (we all take ourselves too seriously most of the time, anyway). Please read, and hopefully enjoy.  
  
Nih  
  
CHAPTER 1  
  
Omnipotent - the term that could most closely describe Nih, and yet was not exactly precise. For Nih could be in many places at once, but could never be everywhere. Nih could be as large as a nebula or as miniscule as an atom. Nih felt, saw, heard but rarely spoke. Unable to attain corporal form without assistance, Nih was neither 'he' nor 'she', and yet 'it' seemed an inappropriate pronoun since usually this signified non-sentience.  
  
Nih originated from a great race of beings, who, over the years, had begun to fear the unknown. To avoid this uncertainty, they had decided to live in isolation, finding refuge at the edge of the ever-expanding universe.  
  
However, curiosity was Nih's reason for being, and now for fleeing. Racing at speeds greater than that of light, Nih searched for something that would be amusing, and maybe even educational. Far from being xenophobic, Nih wished to locate a species that were explorers. They would also need to be self-sufficient and yet not so independent that they would not accept Nih's aid. For Nih, when required, would happily take on the role of linguist, scientist, artist, healer, soldier, and/or friend.  
  
Nih had not encountered other intelligent beings in some time. It was in a usually uninhabited void of space, that Nih finally came upon 2 space- faring vessels of dramatically different design. Quickly scanning both ships' databanks, Nih attempted to learn as much as possible about the occupants, before initiating first contact.  
  
The larger of the 2 vessels was a Vulcan cruiser named the T'Luk, with a complement of 312. Their databanks held much scientific and astronomical information. However, Nih was disappointed - the lack of cultural data and personal logs did not allow for much insight into the Vulcan way of life.  
  
Nih's enthusiasm for his recent discovery returned upon completing the assessment of the 2nd vessel. Enterprise was smaller, and with fewer beings. They hailed from the planet Earth, and called themselves human. Fortunately, a barrage of literature, music, and personal logs gave Nih the desire to make Enterprise the place to sojourn and hopefully also to learn. . . .  
  
****************  
  
"We are being hailed, sir." Hoshi prepared to activate the view screen, anticipating that Captain Archer would not refuse a transmission from the Captain of the T'luk.  
  
"Go ahead, Ensign." Archer moved to the center of the bridge, and smoothed the wrinkles in his uniform. "Good day, Captain Vonok. We are prepared to receive the transfer." Archer now smiled politely. "You are welcome to come aboard. I have asked the Chef to prepare a suitable meal."  
  
The response was in the usual curt, and yet monotonous, tone. "Captain Archer. We will dock in 10 minutes. Then, we will depart immediately as we have more pressing affairs." The view screen returned to black.  
  
"Great friends you got there, T'pol. Thought you said Cap'n Vonok was more cordial than the other Vulcan Captains?" Trip quipped from his station.  
  
Archer turned to face his third in command, and responded with an all-to- familiar expression that read 'well at least I tried'. Meanwhile, T'pol merely raised an eyebrow, looking only momentarily in Trip's direction before returning her gaze to her console.  
  
"Well, guess I should get down to the 'bay to meet 'n greet." Trip headed in the direction of the turbolift. "Coming, T'pol?"  
  
Responding with only a slight nod, T'pol followed suit.  
  
****************  
  
A metallic thud signaled the arrival of the Vulcan shuttlepod. After ensuring that an adequate seal had been achieved, a crewman opened the hatch. Trip and T'pol had positioned themselves, such that they could witness the debarkation. T'pol held a PADD in her hand, reviewing the details it displayed. Neither spoke.  
  
The first to step out of the pod was a lanky Vulcan Lieutenant. He only acknowledged T'pol and handed her a PADD. Trip smirked at the conspicuousness of his snub.  
  
Expressionless, she read the information and then nodded. "We are prepared to receive."  
  
With this, five humans stepped out. Each wore a blue Starfleet uniform. Upon seeing the 2 superior officers, they halted and stood at attention. The tension was palpable, as the new recruits were tentative with regards to their current assignment in deep space.  
  
Trip smiled warmly, trying to alleviate some of the nervousness in the room. "Welcome, to the fastest ship in the fleet. I am the Chief Engineer, Commander Tucker. And this is our first officer, Subcommander T'pol."  
  
The sight of the emotionless T'pol sent shivers down their spines, as her reputation at Starfleet Academy had preceded her. Because of their apprehension, all responded with feeble smiles.  
  
T'pol remained oblivious to the discomfort that she instilled in these new recruits. "If you would now introduce yourselves, I will be able to direct you to your respective quarters. Your duty rosters will be waiting for you there."  
  
Trip listened intently at the introductions, as he prided himself on his ability to remember names and faces. The one female was Ensign Cher Woodhouse, a recruit that he had agreed upon after reviewing her records from the School of Engineering at Starfleet Academy. The remaining males were all in other departments: Ensign Michael Walley, Ensign Ilia Grinkov, Crewman Scott Patterson, and Steward Ruben Montoya.  
  
Upon completion of the formalities, and the departure of the Vulcan shuttlepod, the new members of Enterprise were lead out of the bay and to their quarters. Ensign Woodhouse, however, paused for a moment in the doorway, turned and looked back at the now sealed hatch. She shook off the notion that someone was there - the room behind her was now empty. . . .  
  
***************  
  
Nih had patiently waited for the launchbay doors to open and for the Vulcan shuttlepod to enter before squeezing through a tiny breach in the seal of the hatch. Nih had watched as the occupants of the pod disembarked, were greeted by a human and a Vulcan, and introduced themselves.  
  
Of particular interest, Nih observed that both the humans and the Vulcans were bi-gendered, which was quite foreign to Nih. It was decided that this aspect of the races would be first explored.  
  
Nih's zeal was intensifying. But how would Nih accomplish this feat?  
  
The answer to this question came in the form of a petite red-headed human female. Nih was caught by surprise when she had turned to examine the presumably empty launchbay. Had she somehow sensed his presence? Nih would have to investigate this further. Maybe she could be useful. Nih followed, as Ensign Woodhouse headed towards her new living quarters.  
  
TBC . . . . 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
****************  
  
Cher sat in the darkened room, trying to forget that she was now millions of kilometers away from everyone that she knew and cared about - essentially, she was alone. Sleep remained elusive, as she projected what her life was going to be like, from now on.  
  
She had her first shift in engineering, in just 5 hours, and wanted to be at her best. Frustrated, Cher got up out of bed, and turned on her computer. 'Maybe a little bit of reading can take my mind off of things. . . '  
  
After searching the computer's library, she chose one of her favorite novelists, and started to read a story that was both familiar and comforting - 'Emma'.  
  
An hour later, with eyes now burning from exhaustion, she flicked off the computer, and returned to her bunk. She easily fell asleep, and was now dreaming a pleasant dream.  
  
****************  
  
Nih had not left her company since following her from the launchbay. With fascination, her evening routine was observed. Nih also watched as she had gotten up out of bed and had spent over an hour reading literature. This resulted in a revelation. Nih spent the time that the young female was reposing to delve further into the concept of romance and courting. Nih was now formulating an experiment.  
  
************  
  
The Engineering department was abuzz with activity. Trip had spent only a few minutes orienting Cher to her duties before a malfunction in the plasma injectors had him bolting frantically back to work, overseeing the repairs.  
  
Cher was to study the Starfleet protocols for Enterprise's engines, so was holed up in the small office shared by all of the Ensigns of the department. Fortunately it was quiet in there, as the others were busy at their respective tasks. She was glad that she had this time to compose herself, and that, as she was sleep-deprived, she would not require the sharpness of mind necessary to function as a qualified engineer that day.  
  
The silence did not last for long though. Cher was startled from her reading by shouting voices. At least, the voice with the Southern drawl was shouting. A softer, calmer voice could be heard responding to each insult. Cher strained to listen, as the Commander and Subcommander worked through their disagreement in the adjacent office.  
  
"DO YOU DO THIS ON PURPOSE, JUST TO GET A RISE OUT OF ME?"  
  
"Mr. Tucker, I derive no pleasure from the RAISING of your voice when our conflicts could be resolved in a more rationale manner."  
  
"WELL, YA COULDA FOOLED ME."  
  
"All I wish to know is when you will have the long-range sensors back on line. I issued a request for repairs two days ago. If this were a Vulcan vessel, I would not have to-"  
  
"WELL, IF YA WANNA, I'M SURE THAT THE T'LUK COULD COME BACK AND PICK YA UP. HELL, I'LL GET HOSHI TO CALL 'EM BACK RIGHT NOW."  
  
"That will not be necessary, Mr. Tucker. I only meant that protocols dictate that-"  
  
"SCREW YOUR DAMN PROTOCOLS. CAN'T YOU SEE THAT WE HAVE A BIT OF A SITUATION HERE? I'M SURE THAT THE CAP'N WOULD AGREE THAT YOUR FRIGGIN' SCIENCE PROJECTS CAN HOLD OFF FOR A WHILE UNTIL WE GET THE ENGINES GOIN' AGAIN."  
  
Cher held her breath in anticipation, but was disappointed when she somehow missed T'pol's response. The next sound was that of a door closing, likely the Subcommander leaving. A few seconds later, that same door now slammed shut - definitely indicating that the Commander had left.  
  
Cher giggled and said aloud, "I guess the rumors are true. Millie's brother wasn't exaggerating when he said that there was definite passion between those two." She remembered sitting in her dorm room with her roommate Millie, whose older brother worked in the armory on Enterprise, and reading the letters that he wrote. Cher and Millie could not believe that the Vulcan would allow herself to get so flustered by the rantings of a human. She made a mental note to write a letter to Millie after her shift, to share the confirmation of this piece of gossip.  
  
****************  
  
If Nih had been humanoid, at this point, a Cheshire Cat grin would likely have been the appropriate response to recent events. However, Nih could only feel the inner satisfaction of deciding that the beings that had introduced themselves as Commander Tucker and Subcommander T'pol, would prove to be perfect subjects for the experiment. As a bonus, Nih would be able to witness both intergender and interspecies activity concurrently.  
  
Nih came to the conclusion that the young Ensign's curiosity may even rival his own and that Nih could hazard into a partnership with her in order to be successful at the proposed endeavor - Nih would play matchmaker.  
  
*****************  
  
That evening, as Cher sat at her personal computer composing Millie's letter, she felt a cool draft on her neck. Despite pulling up her robe to cover her occiput, she continued to shiver. She thought she heard a soft, squeaky voice breath her name. Turning to face the sound, she was startled to find a lucent entity hovering about 10 centimeters off the floor. Measuring about 2 meters cubed, it had no definite form with its edges almost evaporating into the air of the room, yet there was a faint bluish- purple light emanating from it. Again, the mouse-like voice said, "Ensssign Woooodhouuusssse."  
  
Cher jumped up out of her seat, eyes wide with shock. Her mind raced, and yet she remained immovable. She could hear a scream, and for a moment wondered where it came from, until she could feel a dryness and knife-like jab at the back of her throat - she had been the one screaming. She finally decided to make a run for it, but the entity blocked her exit. Her terror was so acute that she started to feel vertiginous, then paresthesia ascended her limbs and the room went black.  
  
TBC . . . . 


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3  
  
*****************  
  
"Uh. . . Ensign, are you alright?"  
  
Cher ached all over and yet knew she was not injured. She lay prone on the hard floor. Her head pounded. Gingerly, she opened her eyes and turned over. Hovering over her was a pair of soft blue eyes belonging to a handsome blond. Realizing it was her commanding officer, Cher quickly jumped to her feet, clenching her robe such that she did not expose too much.  
  
"Ah. . . Commander. . . what are you doing. . . ah. . . in my room?" Cher quickly scanned her surroundings to confirm that she was indeed still in her room, before fixing her stare on the man standing in front of her.  
  
"You were late for your shift, and didn't answer the Comm. So I came down to check on ya." An expression of concern was displayed on his chiseled face. "What were ya doin' on the floor? Did ya pass out?"  
  
"I'm not sure, sir. The last that I remember, I was writing a letter to my friend Millie. It must be that I was so exhausted that I just fell asleep at my desk, and ended up on the floor somehow." She added guiltily, "Also, I didn't really eat much yesterday."  
  
Trip stepped over to the Comm next to the exit, and pushed the outgoing button. "Tucker to Sickbay."  
  
"Yes, Commander?" The cheerful voice of Dr Phlox responded.  
  
"I'm going to bring Ensign Woodhouse down to you, to get checked out. I just found her passed out on the floor of her quarters. She seems fine now, but still you should have a look at her."  
  
"Very well, Commander. Do you require assistance?"  
  
"No thanks Doc, I think I can take it from here."  
  
Cher did not protest, at least not verbally. She did let out a faint sigh, and grudgingly follow the commander. It was only when they were standing outside the Sickbay that she noticed that she was only wearing a tattered pink terry cloth bathrobe, and was now thoroughly embarrassed.  
  
***************  
  
"You seem fine to me, Ensign. Just moderately volume depleted, and slightly hypoalbuminemic." Phlox recognized the look of confusion on the faces of both Trip and Cher. He smiled, and rephrased his conclusions. "You are just dehydrated and under-nourished. Nothing that regular visits to the mess hall can't fix."  
  
"Can I go to work now? I am feeling fine." Cher pleaded with Phlox.  
  
"I foresee no impediment to your duties, as long as you promise me that you will eat 3 square meals a day, starting with a good breakfast immediately." After seeing her nod in agreement, Phlox discharged her, and returned to his morning routine of feeding his menagerie.  
  
Trip walked Cher back to her quarters. But before leaving her to get dressed, he tried to reassure her. "Ensign, I know that being here can be a little scary, but we all take care of each other. I expect to see you in ¾ of an hour, after you have eaten. You are going to help me with those. . . long range sensors." Trip winked at her, and sauntered in the direction of the turbolift.  
  
Did he know that she had overheard their 'discussion' the day before? He was very interesting. One thing that she knew for certain was that she was really starting to like Commander Tucker; too bad . . . .  
  
**************  
  
Trip chuckled. "Do ya ever wonder why they made these Jefferies tubes so small?" He sat in front of an open panel, cramped up such that his knees were almost touching his ears. He motioned to Cher, to pass him a wire stripper.  
  
She sat watching him as he worked. He was quite the specimen. Despite the bagginess of his uniform, it was obvious that he was in excellent physical shape. His ability to inject humor into day to day conversation also fascinated her. He and T'pol were so different in many respects, but as the saying goes - opposites do attract.  
  
"Commander, I would like to apologize for not making my presence known yesterday when you and the Subcommander were having your discussion."  
  
"Ah. . . yeah, about that. You'll soon see that that is more the norm than anything else. We seem to have quite a volatile relationship, although she would deny that, as that would be 'an emotional response'." Trip turned to face the young Ensign. He was surprised by how comfortable she seemed around him. It was a nice change.  
  
"Yes, I was warned about that."  
  
"Oh. . . so they have been gossiping about us at the Academy, have they?" Trip seemed amused by this revelation.  
  
Seeing the ease with which he interacted with her, she proceeded in neutral tone. "I am certain that the rumors of her many romantic exploits are also true. She is quite an attractive woman, for a Vulcan."  
  
Trip swallowed hard, and his eyes bugged out. Not only was he dumbfounded by the statement itself, but that it had come from one of Enterprise's newest members. Teetering between reprimanding her for speaking of a superior in such a manner and wanting to know more about these rumors, Trip decided that since they were alone he would ask the burning question. "Just what have they been saying back on Earth?" He went back to working on the panel, pretending to be only mildly interested.  
  
"Not really all that much. Just that every man on the ship had the hots for her, much to her satisfaction." Smiling to herself, Cher knew that she was being impertinent, but also that Trip would not reproach her. "She claims to keep her emotions in check, but it's obvious that she is a very passionate woman. Right, Commander? Why else would she go out of her way to argue with you all the time?"  
  
Trip stared at the open panel in front of him, still amazed at how openly Ensign Woodhouse was sharing gossip. "Well, Ensign. . . um. . ." He wanted to find out more, but reconsidered. He had too much to do and Cher was too distracting. "Why don't you go back to your office, and finish the repair report. I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
As she climbed out of the Jefferies tube, she was still smiling. 'Well, the seed has been planted. Now for the next step.'  
  
TBC . . . . 


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4  
  
**************  
  
T'pol sat at a table in the messhall, slowly sipping her tea, and perusing the information on the PADD that she held in her other hand. As per usual, even though it was the busiest time of day and the messhall was packed, no one ventured to sit with her, opting instead to squeeze into the other tables.  
  
Cher spotted her intended target and confidently approached T'pol, with tray in hand. "Good Evening Subcommander. May I sit here?" Without waiting for a reply, she promptly took the seat next to the Vulcan. "I don't know how you do it, the choices are not that great for us vegetarians."  
  
T'pol looked up from her PADD, with almost an expression of surprise, mixed with respect. "Yes, Ensign. It can be quite trying; however, Chef is aware of my specific requirements. I could speak to him on your behalf to set up a similar arrangement."  
  
'So far, so good.' She contemplated the next course of action. "Yes, thank you. I have developed a penchant for Plomeek broth and herbal teas."  
  
They sat in silence throughout the remaining meal. T'pol's opinion of the young subordinate was improving by the minute - she did not ramble on at mealtime as did the other Ensigns.  
  
The dinner consumed, Cher made her excuses. "I must go to the gym while I have the chance. Thank you for your company, Subcommander."  
  
Just as Cher prepared to leave, T'pol made an uncharacteristic request. "Ensign, may I join you? I require a sparring partner. Have you any experience with the martial arts?"  
  
"Why, yes I do."  
  
"If you do not mind waiting, I have a few errands to complete first. Shall we meet in about 90 minutes?"  
  
Cher nodded her affirmation, and then mentally checked off another point on her expanding to-do list.  
  
*************  
  
Standing in front of her bathroom mirror, Cher rubbed her hands furiously under the nearly scalding water coming from the taps. She was only satisfied when the dark grey water in the sink became clear. After drying her hands, she looked up and said, "So how do you think we are doing so far?"  
  
No reply was heard, but she continued. "Yes, I know you want me to work faster, but this isn't going to be easy. That woman has ice running in her veins. Although I have to give you credit, the whole 'staying quiet during the meal' was a stroke of genius. I'm sure she scares the hell out of most, so they likely brattle on when they are around her."  
  
Again, she paused. Her expression was of concentration. She then gave an exaggerated nod, and went to her closet to pick out an outfit for her work- out with T'pol.  
  
**************  
  
They met just outside of the doors of the gym. 'Punctual,' T'pol noted with approval. Maybe she had finally found another female with whom she could relate on the ship. It was not that Hoshi was not her friend, but she did tend to spend an immense amount of time with unnecessary pursuits, such as gossiping.  
  
When they stepped into the room, they found that it was empty. T'pol rather preferred to exert herself physically in a less disordered atmosphere, therefore was relieved. Her contentment was interrupted, however, by a series of expletives coming from behind one of the weight machines.  
  
As the voice was unmistakable, Cher cheerfully called out, "Oh, good evening, Commander!"  
  
Trip stood up from behind the equipment. He was diaphoretic, and his hair was disheveled. His uniform had been replaced by a pair of baggy grey sweatpants and a blue tank top, which was streaked with what appeared to be grease; a matching streak darkened his left cheek. With a crooked grin, he first acknowledged Cher, but then looked a bit startled at seeing T'pol standing next to her. Memories of his earlier conversation with the Ensign were making it difficult for him to think of something to say to either of them. He managed, "Oh, hi," before ducking back down, to complete whatever he was doing.  
  
Cher gave T'pol a quick smile. "So, should we start with some stretching? Then, you can show me some of your moves, Subcommander."  
  
T'pol hesitated for a moment, and craned her neck to see exactly what Trip was doing. As she could not see him, she stepped onto the centre mat and started to limber herself up. It was not long before they were both perspiring from the intensive work-out regimen that T'pol had initiated.  
  
Throughout the workout, Cher kept an eye out for the Commander. Periodically, she would catch him peering from his hiding place. He was especially interested in checking out the supple Vulcan as she moved almost cat-like around the mat. Cher laughed to herself whenever T'pol would glance in his direction - Trip would quickly avert his eyes, and pretend to be hard at work, repairing what Cher knew was likely already fixed.  
  
After T'pol had again succeeded at pinning her to the mat after a failed hip throw, Cher looked up at the Vulcan, in awe. "Subcommander, where did you learn to do that?"  
  
"I am considered a master of the Vulcan Martial Art of Suus Mahna. However, I have since incorporated moves I learned from a Sensei, who lived in Chinatown while I was stationed in San Francisco."  
  
"Well, I wish that I could learn to be a tenth as proficient as you are, Subcommander." Cher cringed slightly, at her less-than-subtle 'brown- nosing'.  
  
"Thank you." T'pol did not hesitate with her reply. "And, Miss Woodhouse, you may call me T'pol when we are not on duty."  
  
"WHAT?" Trip exclaimed, jumped up from behind the weight machine, and came stomping over to the 2 women. He stopped about ½ meter in front of T'pol, and stared at her, hands fixed on his hips. "WHAT?"  
  
She merely raised an eyebrow, and then looked at Cher, whose expression also suggested that she was confused by the commander's behavior. He seemed to be again angry with her, although she could not fathom what the trigger was, this time.  
  
Trip waited for a reply to his ambiguous question. But as none were forthcoming, he shook his head in disgust, and stormed out of the gym.  
  
Unsolicited, Cher presented her take on the situation. "I think he's jealous."  
  
"Excuse me, Miss Woodhouse, but why would Mr. Tucker be jealous?"  
  
"Well, you know how men are. . . ." Cher was having difficulty keeping a straight face, and yet she continued in a matter-of-fact tone. "I think he was surprised that you and I are becoming friends. Or. . . or maybe. . . it's just that you said that I could call you T'pol when we are off duty."  
  
"Why would Mr. Tucker be disturbed by the use of such informalities? He has called me by my proper name since we first met."  
  
"Probably because YOU have never told HIM that he could call you T'pol. Or, have you?"  
  
"None the less, he has done so despite my never giving him permission." T'pol appeared to be satisfied with her response.  
  
"That's not the point, T'pol. His ego is bruised. I believe that he considers your relationship to be . . .a unique one. . . despite the passionate disagreements that seem to define it to others. Love and hate are not all that different, you know." Cher walked over to the bench and picked up her sports bag, hoping that she had not gone too far with that last claim. She fought the urge to look back at T'pol, as she was dying to see if her facial expression would give away what she was thinking.  
  
"I believe that you are mistaken in your assessment."  
  
Cher turned, and suppressed a smile. She noticed that, despite her rebuttal, T'pol was still contemplating the presented argument. "Well, thank you T'pol. I would enjoy sparring with you again sometime. I should really go now. Commander Tucker has a busy day planned for me."  
  
"Yes, that would be agreeable," T'pol said almost absent-mindedly.  
  
Cher strutted out of the gym, pleased with herself for another job well- done. It was only after hearing the swoosh of the doors, that she allowed herself to burst out into laughter.  
  
TBC . . . . 


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5  
  
*************  
  
Rubbing her temples, she tried to alleviate the tension headache that had been present since she arrived for her shift. Every muscle in the remainder of her body also ached, a reminder of her work-out with T'pol. Despite knowing that an analgesic would ameliorate the symptoms, Cher couldn't risk going to Sickbay, as Dr. Phlox may insist on investigating the etiology of her illness. So, instead, she suffered in silence.  
  
After finishing the engine calibrations, Cher returned to her office. As she passed the open door of the Chief Engineer's office, she observed that Trip was sitting in his chair, staring at his computer console, with his mouth open. He looked like he had found something that was not intended for his eyes - an expression of self-deprecation swept across his face. He tousled his hair, and then turned in his chair to find Cher staring at him.  
  
"Ensign! What are you doing?" he asked, defensively. But before she could respond, he continued, "You must have better things to do than to gawk at me!"  
  
"Yes, sir," she replied rather smugly, and then gave him an impish grin. If only he knew how much she had to do, and had already done. Despite his implied dismissal, she remained in the doorway, looking at him.  
  
Trip gave her a puzzled look. "Well, Ensign, you should get to it then."  
  
Still smiling, she gave him a little bow and walked to the adjacent room. Once inside, she tried to imagine his initial thoughts when he happened upon a rather candid letter from a certain Armory officer to a certain Vulcan that had 'accidentally' been forwarded to him. Cher knew that the Commander was aware of Malcolm's infatuation with T'pol, but had thought it to be unrequited. 'Bet he's really seeing her in a different light, now.'  
  
Cher pushed the Comm. "Ensign Woodhouse to Lieutenant Reed."  
  
Promptly, Malcolm responded, uncertainty in his voice. "Yes, this is Lieutenant Reed."  
  
"Hello, Lieutenant. You don't know me, as I have just joined the crew. But I was told to look you up when I got here. Your sister Madeline has told me all about you. I used to babysit your nieces while I was in school in Australia."  
  
"You know Maddie?" Malcolm did not hide his enthusiasm. Any news from his favorite sister was always welcomed.  
  
"Yes, sir. Would you like to meet for dinner this evening?"  
  
"How about 1900 hours?"  
  
"See you in the messhall. Woodhouse out."  
  
******************  
  
Once again, T'pol sat at a table in the messhall, slowly sipping on some tea, and perusing the information on the PADD that she held in her other hand. Although less busy than the previous evening, she was still the only one sitting at a table alone.  
  
The sound of polite laughter caught her attention. She looked up to see Ensign Woodhouse and Lieutenant Reed waiting for their meals. They appeared to be enjoying each others' company. She wondered if they had known each other back on Earth.  
  
Just as she was about to continue with her reading, she was interrupted.  
  
"Excuse me, T'pol, but may we join you?" Cher motioned for Malcolm to take a seat, as she came around the other side of the table, such that they would be flanking her.  
  
Malcolm stood slack-jawed for a few moments. He was surprised that the Ensign had ventured to call the Subcommander by her proper name. However, T'pol did not appear to be fazed by this.  
  
"I hope that you are well, Miss Woodhouse. I must admit that our exertion yesterday has left me with some mild aches."  
  
"Yes, I was a little stiff myself, but am feeling better now."  
  
Malcolm remained silent. He watched as the 2 women conversed easily, and about various topics: astronomical phenomena, hostile alien encounters, and martial arts. He tried to recall a time that he had seen any Vulcan this. . . relaxed, yes that's the word. His contemplation was suspended when T'pol asked him a question.  
  
"Um, I'm sorry, but what was that again?" A warmth mounted his cheeks, as he hated being caught off guard.  
  
"Miss Woodhouse has suggested that we begin to give classes in self- defense, to the general crew. Would you be willing to assist me with the lessons? I am familiar with your extensive hand-to-hand combat training, which, if I am not mistaken, included a variety of martial art maneuvers."  
  
Malcolm blinked several times, with an expression of disbelief. "Yes, Subcommander. I would be pleased to help you." He now felt somewhat honored at being asked, especially by the fiercely independent science officer.  
  
Within a few minutes, Malcolm and T'pol were having an animated discussion (at least on his part). They were deciding on the logistics of the proposed curriculum. They did not notice that Cher has quietly slipped away. They also did not notice that not long after, Trip stepped into the messhall for a late dinner.  
  
He froze just inside the doorway and gawped at the couple huddled at a table. They appeared to be having a private conversation. Trip watched as Malcolm seemed to lean in a little too close to T'pol, and yet she did not flinch at his proximity. Various mental images popped into his head, fueled by the correspondence that he had inadvertently come upon. Why did he have to find another one of T'pol's private messages? At least last time, he was able to find the courage to tell her about it. But this time. . . this time was different.  
  
Finally, T'pol happened to look up to find Trip staring at her. The all- too-familiar raised eyebrow signaled her confusion at his odd behavior.  
  
Malcolm turned around and was puzzled by the expression on Trip's face. He was about to call him over, when the commander let out an exasperated sigh, shook his head and bolted out of the messhall. "What was that all about?" Malcolm asked T'pol.  
  
"I am not certain, Lieutenant. Mr Tucker has been behaving in a peculiar manner, even for him."  
  
In the corner, unobserved, Cher had appraised the entire encounter to be satisfactory - she had succeeded in drawing out his jealousy. She was not so certain, though, that the next step would be as successful - having T'pol acknowledge her feelings for him.  
  
****************  
  
Trip shifted in his seat, waiting for the start of the movie. Sitting in the back, he held a large bowl of popcorn on his lap, and was eating this by the fistful - he was starving, since he had not had supper that evening. "When is this damn movie going to start?" His patience was wearing thin; he also needed new images to supplement the ones that were currently running through his head.  
  
"Calm down, sir. I'm sure that the movie is going to start right on time, in a couple of minutes." Cher took the seat next to Trip. She could tell that his fuse was quite short right now, and that all he needed to explode was a lighted match. In this case, the match was now taking a seat 2 rows in front of him.  
  
Malcolm and T'pol were still sorting out the details for the classes. While in the messhall, he had mentioned that the movie was a classic Bruce Lee film. As it seemed a propos, he had found the courage to invite her; surprisingly, she had accepted.  
  
"Everyone seems to be here." Cher took the opportunity to point this out. "Oh. . . does the Subcommander come to the movies often?"  
  
Trip glared at the 2 officers as they seemed engrossed in conversation, ignoring Cher's query. His mind briefly brought up the image of his inviting her to movie night in the past. This angered him more. His face was now plethoric, and his eyes were unblinking. His right hand was buried in the popcorn bowl.  
  
As if he could sense Trip's eyes burning into the back of his head, Malcolm turned around slowly. He gave a crooked smile. "Good Evening, Commander."  
  
That did it. Trip could have sworn that the smarmy Brit was flaunting his conquest. How could he take advantage of T'pol like that? He knew that Malcolm was quite the lady's man - that he would have his fun with the naïve Vulcan and then drop her as soon as he became bored.  
  
Cher resisted the compulsion to yell 'there she blows'; as she sensed Trip's tirade just moments before he erupted.  
  
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOIN', MAL?"  
  
All eyes in the packed room turned to look at him. Trip now stood, with his hands on his hips, fists clenched. He looked like he was about to pummel someone.  
  
Malcolm looked around, his eyes showing his confusion. "Trip? What are you going on about?"  
  
"WE ALL KNOW YOUR REP'. BUT DID YA HAVE TO GO AND GET MIXED UP WITH HER?"  
  
"What are you-.'' He was interrupted by Trip pushing over a couple of chairs, as he charged towards him. Malcolm now stood nose to nose with the fuming engineer.  
  
"DID YA THINK I'D LET YA GET AWAY WITH THIS?" Trip then looked at T'pol and barked, "AND YOU! . . . YOU!" He was unable to finish his train of thought, as he suddenly realized that he was surrounded by fellow crewman. He looked around sheepishly. Then, in a dejected tone, he said, "Fuck it," and ran out of the room.  
  
***************  
  
T'pol sat on the floor cushion, cross-legged, staring at the flickering flame from one of her meditation candles. After over an hour of controlled breathing and mental exercises, she was still troubled by the commander's odd behavior. She contemplated on the fact that the last time he had acting strangely, he had been under the influence of mind-altering radiation. Maybe, there was something sinister that could account for his current state of mind.  
  
She was not convinced though by this conjecture. On the prior occasion, Mr. Tucker had treated everyone in relatively the same manner. Presently, he seemed to exhibit these peculiarities solely in her presence. His anger seemed targeted on her for the most part, although he had been quite aggressive towards the Lieutenant just a few hours ago.  
  
'I think he's jealous'. That had been Ensign Woodhouse's exact words when she had advanced an opinion on the situation. Was she correct? And, how could this be addressed without causing more embarrassment for the Commander? She did not want to inflict pain on Mr. Tucker, if indeed he did have affections for her.  
  
T'pol decided that she would attempt to sleep, and perhaps the answers would present themselves in her dreams, which she was sure to have given that she had failed to meditate effectively that evening. As soon as she entered REM, her subconscious began to play out many scenarios, all involving a rather irrational Charles Tucker the Third.  
  
TBC . . . . 


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6  
  
**************  
  
The entire next day, Trip hid in his office. His outburst was now the topic of many conversations on board. He hoped that despite his ears burning from the gossip, that the crew had been able to keep the sorted details away from the Captain's ears. That was all he needed. . . to have to explain to Jon why he nearly instigated a fight with Malcolm.  
  
His staff, who were all aware that he was in a foul mood, had opted to not bother him, unless it was something serious. Occasionally, one of them would stand at his door, listening for movement and hoping that he was going to be alright. Even Cher, on 2 occasions, had attempted to look in on the commander, but was met with a resounding "Go away!"  
  
Cher had lingered around his office in anticipation of a confrontation between Trip and T'pol. She was surprised when, at the end of the day, T'pol had not come to speak to Trip. Maybe she still had some work to do to convince T'pol that the Commander was indeed jealous and therefore was harboring deep feelings for her.  
  
That evening, she nonchalantly wandered around Enterprise in search of the Vulcan. She was not in the messhall. She was not in her quarters. She was not in the gym. She eventually used the comm to locate T'pol.  
  
It was Doctor Phlox who had responded to the call. "Yes. Are you looking for the Subcommander?"  
  
"Ah. . . Doctor, is T'pol there?"  
  
"Yes, but we are quite busy right now. If it is not urgent, could you wait to speak to her in the morning? She is helping me with a science project at the moment."  
  
Cher could not think up a good reason for going to Sickbay to talk to her. "Sure, it can wait."  
  
Breathing a sigh of relief, she realized that this was why T'pol had not presented herself earlier in the day. Since she would not be able to accomplish her next task until the next day, she returned to her quarters and promptly went to bed. She would be able to get a good night sleep for the first time in days.  
  
"If that's okay with you? . . ."  
  
***************  
  
T'pol had finished in Sickbay, a few hours earlier than expected, so was now walking around Enterprise, trying to make sense of the events of the previous few days. She now found herself standing in front of the doors of Commander Tucker's quarters. It took her 10 minutes before she finally decided to push the doorbell. She needed to confront him, or else suffer the consequences of yet another night of ineffective meditation and vivid dreams.  
  
A gruff "Come in," was heard. T'pol keyed in the entrance code, and stepped in seconds after the doors slid open.  
  
The room was lit only with a low voltage bedside lamp. He was lying on top of his sheets, wearing the same clothes as he did that evening in the gym - however, this time they were clean. His hands were behind his head and his eyes were focused on the ceiling.  
  
"So, what do you want?" he asked impatiently.  
  
"Commander, we must discuss your behavior over the last few days. I am concerned that you are not well." T'pol spoke cautiously, cognizant of the fact that he may have another outburst if provoked.  
  
He propped himself up on his elbows, and furrowed his eyebrows. "Me? Well, what about you? I just thought that you would be able to control yourself better."  
  
T'pol remained bewildered. "Mr. Tucker, I am behaving normally." Exasperation could be detected in her voice.  
  
Trip now sat up, and swung his legs around the side of his bunk, such that he was facing T'pol. "Guess my definition of 'normal' differs from yours."  
  
The conversation was not progressing as she had hoped, just a lot of rhetoric but no concrete answers. She resolved to ask the question that had been ruminating in her head. "Mr. Tucker, are you envious of my relationship with some of the members of this crew?"  
  
Trip's eyes lit up, and a smirk formed on his lips. "So, there is more than one? Didn't think that Mal would appreciate that all that much. Although he is the love 'em and leave 'em type, I didn't think he would be attracted to the same."  
  
"More than one what? And, what does Lieutenant Reed have to do with this?"  
  
"Ah, gawd, T'pol. I'm no fool. And, I'm definitely not blind."  
  
"I would appreciate it if you would clearly express what you mean!" Her voice was now slightly raised, as her impatience was beginning to surface.  
  
"You're sleepin' with him, and god knows who else! And, you're flauntin' it all over this ship! Does Jon know, or is he also part of the package?"  
  
T'pol was taken aback by his assertion. She considered slapping him, but maintained her control, at least physically. Emotionally, she was starting to wear thin. "What business is it of yours?"  
  
"You're not denying it, then?"  
  
"For your information, Mr. Tucker, I am not engaged, nor have I ever been engaged, in sexual relations with members of this crew!"  
  
"Yeah, right. That's not what I've heard, or seen. They're even talking about it at Starfleet Academy! Ensign Woodhouse was kind enough to tell me all about it."  
  
T'pol paused for a moment. "Commander, I can not believe that you would take any stock in rumors."  
  
"Oh, there's more. I did see you cozying up to Malcolm in the messhall, and then -"  
  
"Lieutenant Reed and I were discussing a proposed self-defense course, which was suggested by Miss Woodhouse. If you had arrived a few moments earlier in the messhall, you would have seen that she had been sitting at our table as well. Actually, it was she who was with the Lieutenant."  
  
Trip looked at her in disbelief. He got up and crossed the room to get to his personal computer. He quickly found what he was looking for, and motioned to T'pol to read what it now displayed.  
  
As she read, T'pol became progressively more confused, and almost even angered by the letter. The explicit nature of its content would have made most humans blush. If Trip didn't know better, he would have sworn that her cheeks now shone with a copper patina.  
  
"Commander, someone has perpetrated a falsehood. Not only have I never seen this correspondence, but the situations that are described have never occurred." She stepped backwards, until she was next to his bed. Then, she sat down as if she were physically exhausted. "Do you believe that the Lieutenant would have orchestrated such a malicious lie?"  
  
Given the sincerity of her disavowal, Trip was overwhelmed by feelings of relief, confusion, anger, and guilt. "I'm so sorry T'pol. I can't believe that I let myself believe all of this." He took a seat next to her. "When I first heard the rumors, I was shocked. But Ensign Woodhouse pointed out things that made me believe her in the end."  
  
"And, where did you get this letter?"  
  
"I'm not too sure. I thought that Malcolm had forwarded it to me, just to show that he was the one to get the girl in the end." Trip lowered his eyes, hoping that T'pol would not read more into his statement.  
  
"I am suspicious that there is more to this than just a prank. Was there anyone present when you happened upon this?"  
  
"Come to think of it, I did look up to find the Ensign grinning at me. It was almost as if she knew what I was thinking at that moment." Trip gave T'pol a big smile. "I wonder what she's really up to."  
  
"Well, Mr. Tucker, we will just have to watch her attentively."  
  
Trip nodded in agreement. "So, what do we do now?"  
  
"I must meditate, so that I may devise a plan. I will contact you in the morning." T'pol stood up and walked towards the exit. She paused to say, "Maybe we should continue to behave as we have these last few days, so as to not arouse suspicion," before the doors slid shut.  
  
Trip felt a wave of relief swell up inside him. Was it because he and T'pol were now 'friends' again? Was it because they were going to work together to figure out just what Cher was up to? Was it because Malcolm was not involved with T'pol? Or, was it because T'pol seemed to have missed the fact that he indeed had been jealous?  
  
TBC . . . . 


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7  
  
****************  
  
First thing the next morning, T'pol was on the bridge when Hoshi intercepted a distress signal. A Kantarian Science Station orbiting a nearby primitive M-class planet required assistance for repairs to their main power generator. Archer had placed T'pol in charge of organizing the away team.  
  
T'pol now stood in Trip's office doorway. "Commander, your expertise is required for repairs on a nearby science station. Could you please assemble an engineering team to assist us?" She spoke a little louder and more pronounced than was usual for her.  
  
Trip sat in his chair, and couldn't help but smile at her. She was trying to hint that he bring Ensign Woodhouse along. He winked at her, before answering in a loud voice. "DON'T YOU THINK I HAVE BETTER THINGS TO DO THAN SCURRY OFF TO FIX OTHER PEOPLE'S MESSES?"  
  
If it hadn't been for his wink, T'pol may have missed that he was following her advice from their prior conversation. "I would appreciate your cooperation, Commander. Please have your team, including yourself, in the launch bay within the half hour." As she left, she announced loudly, "I will be leading the away team."  
  
As they had both surmised, Cher was eavesdropping from her office. She would have to find some way to get on that away team. Hoping that the commander would accept volunteers, she hustled to his office. "Hello, Commander. I could not help but overhear the Subcommander's orders. May I be of some assistance?"  
  
Trip did not look up from his computer. He merely raised his arm, as if to shoo her away. "Yeah, whatever. See you at the shuttlepod in 25."  
  
"Thank you, sir! You won't regret it." Cher cheerfully skipped off, secretly hoping that the experiment was nearing completion.  
  
Once he could no longer hear her steps, he softly replied, "Nope, but I bet you'll surely regret it." He then got up and started to collect the necessary tools for this job.  
  
**************  
  
The 15 minutes that the 3 members of the away team spent in the shuttlepod had been in silence. Cher watched as her 2 superiors pretended not to notice each other, all the while kept giving each other sideways glances. After they docked and came on board the small science station, Trip and Cher were directed to the problem while T'pol followed the head scientist who was eager to share some of his findings with a fellow scientist.  
  
It took just over an hour to repair the malfunction. Trip feigned being in a bad mood, and only communicated with Cher in grunts and nods. Inside though, he was bursting to just come out and confront her, but was following T'pol's directions - "You should allow her to make the first move, voluntarily. That way we may be able to determine what her intentions truly are."  
  
For her part, Cher could no longer be patient. She wanted to see the experiment come to a successful end, soon. As they were packing up their tools, she ventured to speak. "Um. . . Commander. Is there something wrong? You and the Subcommander do not appear to be on friendly terms."  
  
Trip responded angrily. "Well, I think she is on friendly terms with enough of the crew!"  
  
"So, you've found out about her and Lieutenant Reed. Must have been quite a shock, especially since well. . . you know. . . how you feel about her."  
  
Trip maintained his scowl, but also attempted to show an expression of hurt. "That's life, I guess. Shoulda taken my chance when I had the opportunity."  
  
Cher was surprised that he had just admitted this to her. She would have to use this to her advantage. Putting her hand on his shoulder in a gesture to comfort him, she said, "Well, it's her loss."  
  
"Ensign, could you do me a favor? Could ya go and collect 'Vulcan's Gift to Men', since we're done here?" Trip's complexion seemed to sallow, as he stood staring at the ground, shuffling his feet.  
  
With a smile, and a "Sure," she went off to find T'pol. After she rounded the corner, Trip pulled out his communicator which had already been activated. "Hey, T'pol, did you catch all that? She's on her way."  
  
"Yes, Commander. We will meet you at the shuttlepod." He could have sworn that there was a hint of annoyance in her voice. He chuckled and thought: 'Maybe it was that last insult. . . .'  
  
****************  
  
Cher met up with T'pol as she walked in the corridor leading to the shuttlebay. "Oh, hello, Subcommander. We have completed the repairs, and we are to meet the Commander at the shuttle."  
  
"Ensign, may I speak to you a moment before we depart. I am concerned by Mr. Tucker's hostility towards me. I am also preoccupied by the notion that you may have been correct in your assessment that he desires me."  
  
"Well, I now know for certain that he has feelings for you. He just said as much to me. I feel sorry for him though, as I know that you are incapable of reciprocating." Cher hoped that this approach would result in T'pol being at least a bit defensive.  
  
"You are correct. I will have to explain this to him as soon as possible."  
  
Cher felt panicked. This was not what she wanted to hear. All her efforts could not have been in vain!  
  
Her last chance would have to be when T'pol actually confronted Trip. "Subcommander, if I may, you should speak to him as soon as we are on board the pod. You should not prolong his pain any further." As she said this, the doors of the shuttlebay opened, to reveal that the Commander had already arrived and was just completing a pre-flight check.  
  
Cher entered the shuttlepod first, and took a seat where she would best be able to observe. She hoped that T'pol would take her advice, so that regardless of the outcome she could at least be a witness to the confrontation.  
  
Wordlessly, Trip and T'pol entered, and took their respective seats. The pod's engines ignited and they left the confines of the space station. It was a full minute before anyone spoke.  
  
Trip turned around and looked at Cher. "Can we do it now, T'pol?"  
  
Puzzled, Cher watched as T'pol spun around in her chair, and eyed her suspiciously. "Proceed."  
  
Trip stood up and crossed the short distance that separated them. He now towered over her. "Ensign, we would like to know just what the hell you think you're doing!"  
  
"Excuse me, sir?" Cher felt like an animal trapped in a cage. Her eyes flitted around the small space, looking for a way to escape.  
  
"The Commander and I are aware that you have been attempting to interfere with our relationship, although the intended outcome does remain a mystery." T'pol now stood up and placed herself next to the Commander.  
  
Cher stood up as well. She could not think of what to say, as she looked into the mistrustful eyes of the couple standing in front of her. "It wasn't my fault!" Taking a deep breath, she decided that she was going to explain everything.  
  
Then, a change occurred in the young Ensign. She appeared to enter into a trance: her eyes unblinking, her pupils dilated, her sclera glassed over, and her body stiffened. She then spoke, in a voice that was her own, and yet differed in timbre. "I am Nih."  
  
Trip and T'pol watched as the petite red-head swooned and then collapsed. Trip had been swift, catching just before she hit the floor. For a moment, they just stared at her.  
  
Lying on the shuttlepod floor, Cher seemed awake and yet not conscious of her surroundings. Her eyes remained open, but were not moving. She spoke again, slowly and well-enunciated. "I meant no harm. I am Nih."  
  
T'pol attempted to fetch the tricorder, so that she could assess the stricken shipmate. Her movements, however, were blocked by a lucent entity which now hovered about 10 centimeters off the floor. Measuring about 2 meters cubed, it had no definite form with its edges almost evaporating into the air of the room, yet there was a faint bluish-purple light emanating from it. "Commander!"  
  
Trip turned, and looked with bewilderment at this strange light. He pulled out his pistol that he had holstered to his hip and pointed at it. T'pol simply stared at it, not moving.  
  
Again, Cher spoke. "I am Nih. I wish to learn. I too search for answers."  
  
"What the hell's going on?" Trip stood such that he was between Cher on the floor and the floating life form. He kept turning his head from one to the other, all the while aiming the pistol at the entity. "What have you done to Ensign Woodhouse?"  
  
T'pol, who seemed to have grasped the situation with little effort, now spoke. "Nih, as I assume that you are speaking through Ensign Woodhouse, please explain what are your intentions."  
  
Cher responded, "I learn through observation. But I have no tangible form. Cher provided a shell."  
  
"Well, just what were you up to, then? Get your kicks outta messing with my head?" Trip's frustration was now directed at Nih. He felt like shooting it, or throwing it out of an airlock, for all the turmoil it had caused.  
  
"No. You are bi-gendered. A review of your ship's computer made me want to know more about courting."  
  
"Courtin'?" Trip had to laugh at that. "Don't think that word's been used since the 19th century!"  
  
T'pol stepped up, "Nih, we need to bring Ensign Woodhouse to Sickbay. Then you may meet with Captain Archer, as I am certain that he will have many questions for you."  
  
"What do you think you're doing, T'pol? You're not trusting him?"  
  
"Commander, I would have preferred to not be an experiment subject, however I do understand Nih's pursuit of knowledge." She returned to speaking to Nih. "May I now contact the captain, and Dr. Phlox?"  
  
The response now came from the entity itself. "Yessss. And, sssheee will beeee ffffine."  
  
TBC . . . . 


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8  
  
******************  
  
Archer had been understandably upset by the fact that one of his crew had been taken over, against her will, and made to carry an experiment on 2 of his senior officers. He was even more unhappy with the fact that despite the obvious disruption that this seemed to have had, as well as the averted fight on movie night, he had been left completely in the dark.  
  
After several hours of conversation, and many apologies on Nih's part, it was agreed that despite Nih's good intentions that the troubles that he had caused would preclude his staying longer on Enterprise. As a act of good will, Nih had provided some information on nearby, uncharted systems. He also cautioned them about potential threats that were in the region, much to Malcolm's interest.  
  
Nih said his goodbyes to the bridge crew, and then disappeared.  
  
*****************  
  
That evening, T'pol was walking around Enterprise still trying to understand everything that had happened recently. As she passed the darkened observation lounge, the source of her ruminations was sitting on an upholstered bench, staring out at the stars.  
  
"Good evening, Commander." She now stood just behind him.  
  
Trip was startled out of his reverie, and spun around to find the petite Vulcan looking down at him. The way the light reflected from the hull through the window and onto her face took his breath away - she was mesmerizing. After clearing his throat, he replied, "Good evening to you, too. Have a seat."  
  
T'pol complied, and positioned herself to his left. "You are having difficulties sleeping?"  
  
"Yup. Guess that's your problem too?" He tried not to look at her, and hoped that she had forgotten all about his jealous ex-boyfriend routine. At least the Ensign had an excuse for her behavior, but what was his?  
  
To his dismay, she had not forgotten. "Mr. Tucker, I am troubled by your hostile behavior towards me."  
  
Trip sighed, before saying, "I'm sorry Subcommander. I was a jerk. No excuse. . . . I guess I just didn't like seeing you with another guy." He continued to gaze out the window.  
  
"I do not know how to respond." She hesitated before continuing, "Although, I must admit that I do not like 'seeing' you with other women."  
  
Turning towards her, he could not help but smile at this confession. "I'm not sure what to say to that either."  
  
They spent the next several seconds, staring into each other's eyes, almost in an attempt to read what was behind them. Upon realizing what they were doing, both looked down quickly.  
  
It was Trip who spoke next. "How about we call a truce for now, Subcommander? And then we'll see."  
  
"That would seem to be logical." T'pol leaned in a little and spoke now almost in a whisper, "And, you may call me T'pol when we are off-duty. May I call you Charles?"  
  
He chuckled. "I'll let ya call me whatever you like, darlin'."  
  
****************  
  
Cher had spent over a day under observation in Sickbay. After detailing her initial encounter with Nih, she explained how Nih had somehow been implanted into her sub-conscious in order for her to accomplish what needed to be done.  
  
She admitted to writing and sending the letter to Trip, as well as damaging the equipment in the gym, knowing not only that she and T'pol would be there, but that Trip would be forced to fix it himself (she had anonymously contacted him with the repair request). Her explanation for knowing personal aspects of the crew was that Nih had scanned all of Enterprise's databanks, including logs and correspondences.  
  
She was adamant that he had not harmed her. The only residual effect from the 'possession' was a slight headache that would require analgesics for a few days.  
  
It was around midnight when Phlox had finally discharged her, as she was deemed completely healthy. Cher now sauntered along the corridor; her head lulled with each effort to lift her feet. She was exhausted.  
  
As she passed the observation lounge, she made out 2 figures sitting very close to each other, seemingly engrossed in conversation. A sliver of a smile signaled her recognition of the couple. Not wanting to be caught snooping again, she only paused for a moment before heading to her quarters.  
  
When she stepped inside, she was thrilled to find a familiar friend. Nih was waiting for her, as they had not yet said their goodbyes. "Oh, Nih. You would never guess who I just saw. They were cozying up in the observation lounge. Maybe our efforts will be rewarded in the end."  
  
Nih did not respond verbally, as their link was so strong that he was able to send his thoughts to hers.  
  
"Thanks for taking all the blame, by the way. If they knew that I was a willing participant in this, I would probably be sent home, or worse court- martialed. Are you sure you can't stick around?"  
  
Cher focused on the thoughts being relayed to her. "Where will you go? I'll try to keep you up to date, especially about our favorite pair."  
  
Nih's iridescent form now glowed bright orange, showing his pleasure.  
  
"Well, it's been fun. And now, I'll get to milk everyone's pity for a while." She laughed. "Maybe I'll also keep up with these experiments on my own, now that you've given me the taste for it. Any suggestions?"  
  
Cher sat down at the computer and started to search for a new project. "What about Malcolm and Hoshi. . . ?"  
  
**************  
  
THE END  
  
Author's note: I know that it was silly in parts, but hey, I had fun writing it. One of the challenges was to try not to use 'he' or 'his' or 'it', as I wanted to maintain the genderless aspect of this entity. I had written out a whole bunch of dialogue with Nih but it was annoying to write, as well as to read it like that. Well, I hope you were at least a little entertained!!! 


End file.
